


Overtime

by SisterLucrezia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 04:51:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterLucrezia/pseuds/SisterLucrezia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lestrade comes across John and Sherlock together at NSY and it has a powerful effect on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Overtime

**Author's Note:**

> So holy crap, I just realized I screwed up. The morgue is at St. Bart's, NOT at the Yard. I'm changing the room John and Sherlock were in to a conference room for consistency.
> 
> I'm posting this unbeta'd as a contribution to Silver Fox Saturday. I meant to do it last weekend but I let myself get distracted. Comments and critiques are more than welcome, they're requested in fact! Enjoy!
> 
> Also, thanks to Moonblossom for the excellent cover art!

It was a sight that had seared itself into Lestrade's brain before settling into a tightening knot in his groin.

 

Back at his desk the Detective Inspector replayed the scene in his head; John fucking Sherlock against a conference table, the two men kissing each other so deeply that they didn't notice Lestrade come through the door. He had paused there for a moment, taking in the sight of the two men until Sherlock threw his head back and moaned. Lestrade slipped back out and away as quietly as he could, rushing back to his office in a rush of embarrassment. Once he sat down however, he found not only that the image kept replaying itself in his mind's eye but that it was insistently bunching up that knot in his pelvis each time.

 

Lestrade got up and went to the door of his office, locking it and peeking out the windows to confirm that everyone else had gone home for the night. He settled back in his chair and propped his legs up on the desk as he undid his trousers. Lestrade closed his eyes and absently palmed his stiffening erection as he brought up the scene he had walked in on earlier. . .

 

_John's trousers around his knees, buttocks tightening with every thrust into Sherlock. Sherlock's legs wrapped around John's waist, heels digging into John's back. . ._

 

Cock full and twitching, Lestrade gripped firmly and stroked, groaning as his mind filled in the details.

 

_Sherlock's fingers digging into John's back, bunching up his shirt and exposing the expanse of skin above his arse. . . A moan escaping from Sherlock's throat as John kisses him passionately. . ._

 

Lestrade huffed out a breath as his free hand gripped the arm of his chair, taking his time and enjoying the slow burn.

 

_Sherlock throwing his head back, baring his throat for John to drag his tongue along, cradling Sherlock's head in his hand, growling and holding his lover possessively as he pumps into Sherlock harder. . ._

 

The DI quickens his pace slightly as he slides his other hand up over his stomach and chest, gripping his collarbone. . .

 

_John's hand by Sherlock's neck, thumbing the hollow there, his breaths coming faster. . ._

 

He grips tightly and pumps harder, his hips canting slightly to meet his hand. . .

 

_His hand on Sherlock's aching prick now, bringing him to orgasm as he whispers encouragement and praise against his lips. . ._

 

Lestrade was whispering Sherlock's name softly, almost too softly to hear it himself. His free hand gripped his thigh hard. . .

 

_Hard enough to leave bruises on Sherlock's hips as he slammed into him harder, the slap of flesh and grunts tugging at the arousal gathered in his pelvis. . ._

 

Moaning Sherlock's name, Lestrade arches back in his chair as his orgasm tears through him, the knot coming undone as his seed spilled down over his hand and trousers. Lestrade let out several short grunts with each jolt that wracked his body. As the last wave passed he let out a sigh and cracked his eyes open to look around. Confirming that he was still alone and unseen he dropped his head back and relaxed into his chair, his limbs dead weight.

 

It wasn't the first time he'd tossed off to the thought of fucking a man- he'd tumbled with a few in his day and very much enjoyed it- but it was the first time he came while thinking about fucking Sherlock. Lestrade did think him gorgeous in an almost unnatural way but had never entertained the idea before. It turned out to be an idea worth entertaining again at a later date. His lips twitched in a grin and he sat up to begin putting himself back to rights before he left his office. Lestrade looked down at his lap and let out a huff at the sight of a decent-sized puddle of semen staining the crotch of his trousers. He swept up as much as he could with some napkins left over from his earlier dinner and cursed to himself. He just hoped that nobody would notice. Pulling himself back together, Lestrade took a deep breath, gathered up his things and stepped out of his office.

 

Luck was not on his side however, as he ran into the very men he'd walked in on just outside the lift.

 

"Evening, gentlemen." Lestrade said, trying very hard not to imagine John and Sherlock in their previous position. "Got anything on that double homicide?"

 

John nodded in greeting as Sherlock launched into his findings. "You're looking for two people, one left-handed, one right, both very young judging by the bits of clove tobacco found on the bodies." He continued as they all stepped on the lift, facing the Detective Inspector and typing furiously on his mobile. "Find out which pub was hosting a show that night and-" Sherlock looked up and raked his eyes over Lestrade, briefly pausing on his crotch, then taking in his face. Lestrade swore inwardly.

 

"Detective, what is that on your trousers?" Sherlock asked, his voice cool and silken. Lestrade made an effort to keep his face blank.

 

"Cream from a pastry this morning." He lied. Sherlock held his gaze for a moment longer before he broke away and continued with his findings. Lestrade cursed to himself- he knew he'd been caught out but at least Sherlock had the decency to keep quiet about it. He was just glad he didn't have to try to excuse himself from sharing a cab with the two of them.

 

After wishing John and Sherlock a good night, Lestrade climbed into his cab, gave his address to the cabbie and slumped back in the seat. He decided that since it was a Friday it wouldn't hurt to head to the pub. He could use a pint or three tonight.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover for Overtime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/910848) by [moonblossom graphics (moonblossom)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonblossom/pseuds/moonblossom%20graphics)




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